


Of Lions and Ravens

by liddie



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Adorable Babbus, Boys Kissing, Durin Family, Durincest, Feels, Flashback, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddie/pseuds/liddie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Fíli used to wish he looked more like his family...if only to be spared the sharp barbs from the other dwarflings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Lions and Ravens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nekomancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekomancy/gifts).



> For the wonderful Nekomancy ~ who cheers me on and encourages me in everything I write! <3
> 
> Especially little!Durins :)

* * *

 

Fíli heads to the river, careful to keep a tight grip on the bottle he holds in shaking hands as he trips over roots and branches littering his path. He’s only got a few minutes before his uncle will come in from chopping firewood and find Kíli alone, and his brother was already near tears when he stole out of the cottage.

Dropping to his knees at the riverbank Fíli uncorks the bottle, the dark and foul smelling liquid sloshing around like black blood, the young blond biting his lip in hesitation. _This would make things better, easier_ , he reassures himself, hanging his head over the water and tipping the bottle up. The dark stain pours over golden hair, Fíli’s hand shaking as he empties the bottle and tosses it behind him.

Before he can rub it in a hand wraps around his wrist, his uncle’s harsh voice eliciting a sob from the young dwarrow. Fíli struggles for only a few minutes, his tears leaking from tightly closed eyes while Thorin barks demands. “Hold your breath, boy!”

Fíli does as commanded, and not a moment too soon. Thorin shoves his head entirely under the cold water, using a large hand to try and wash the dye out of Fíli’s hair. He pulls his nephew back and lets him breathe for a few seconds, giving a short warning before pushing him back under the water.

When he finally pulls Fíli back, neither of them can distinguish tears from river water, Fíli choking out sobs and muffled apologies as Thorin dries his head with his outer tunic. “Save your words until we get back,” he tells Fíli sternly, sighing at the mess that was once golden blond hair. He managed to stop the lad before he dyed his whole head, a few large splotches of raven hair standing out from Fíli’s usual coloring. Tying the wet shirt off onto his belt, Thorin picks the boy up and begins carrying him back through the woods.

Fíli’s cries are muffled in Thorin’s undershirt, hands clenching in the fabric as his small body shakes in the warm hold. They come upon the house and Fíli flinches at the wails coming from within, realizing that Thorin had to leave Kíli alone while he chased after him.

They enter the cottage and Thorin sets him down, walking over to the boys’ bedroom and opening the door. Fíli follows slowly, unsure if he should be standing put or following his uncle. He watches Thorin lift his little brother from the too-small crib, Kíli burying his red, tearstained face into Thorin’s shoulder as the older brunet rocks him.

Kíli’s hiccupping sobs pull tears from Fíli’s eyes, the little brunet’s cries intensifying when he catches sight of Fíli in the doorway. Thorin turns him around, letting out a sigh and rubbing Kíli’s back. “Go wait by the fire,” he instructs quietly, Fíli hesitating a few seconds before walking out into the living room. He takes a seat on the floor, crossing his legs in front of him and burying his face in his hands.

After what seems like ages he glances behind him to see his uncle enter the room, lying a sleeping Kíli down on the couch before approaching him. Thorin takes the armchair by the fire, the two of them staring into the flames and remaining quiet.

“Is…is Kíli okay?” Fíli whispers, reaching a hand up to worry a lock of his now dark hair. The older nods, glancing to the youngest Durin slumbering a few feet away.

“He was frightened, being left alone.” The words hurt Fíli, just as they’re meant to, though his uncle’s next words cut even deeper. “And then he was met with a complete stranger, his fear is not unjustified.”

“S-stranger?”

“As young as he is, Kíli knows you as his golden brother, not some dark haired dwarfling. He kept asking for you and could not understand why you would not come. I could not confuse him more in his distress.”

Fíli’s tears spill over at the words, a small sob catching in his chest when he realizes what his uncle is saying. That Kíli hadn’t recognized him.

“Why have you done this, Fíli?” Thorin asks quietly, frown softening as he gazes down at his nephew. Fíli’s head is bent but his tears are visible, the curtain of brown and gold not yet long enough to hide the teardrops falling on the rug beneath him. “Fíli, come here.”

Slowly, slower than he’s ever moved Fíli gets up, covering his face with an arm and stepping blindly towards his uncle. Thorin gathers him up when Fíli stops at his knee, settling the boy against his chest and hugging him close. Fíli turns into Thorin’s chest and cries, both at his uncle’s words and the harsh names and barbs thrown his way from the other village children.

_Freak, man-child, mixed blood._

“Is this about the color of your hair?” Thorin guesses softly, though he doesn’t need Fíli to freeze against him to know that he’s correct. Fíli bites his lip and brings a hand up and wipes his eyes.

“Why is it different? Am I…am I like a human, Uncle?”

“Of course not, you’re a full-blooded dwarf through and through; a Durin.” Thorin reassures, bringing a hand up and rubbing circles on Fíli’s back, trying to get the boy’s breathing back to normal.

“Then why is my hair gold? Why can’t it be like yours and Mama’s and Kíli’s?”

“Because Mahal knew you were special. He carved you from the brightest stone and gave you hair to rival the sun,” Thorin explains quietly, tugging Fíli to lean back and running a hand through the messy hair. “You have the same hair as your father, Fíli, and he was one of the strongest dwarrows I’ve ever known.”

“He was?” The whisper is so quiet, so unlike Fíli’s usual inquisitive tone.

“He truly was, always kind and willing to help, giving what little he had for others less fortunate. You take after him in many ways, Fíli, and there’s no doubt in my mind that both you and Kíli will grow up to be just as selfless and loyal as your father was.”

Fíli’s quiet for a long time, thinking these things over. There are only a few things he can remember clearly about his father, his love for music and song and the intricate pipe he’d let Fíli hold sometimes before lighting.

“There is nothing wrong with the way you look, Fíli, don’t ever let what others say get to you. You are a prince and my heir, always hold your head high and be proud of what you have and who you are.”

Fíli nods and they both look over to the couch when little whimpers reach their ears. Kíli rolls further into the couch and lifts himself onto unsteady arms, lip wobbling as dark eyes search the room. They find Thorin quickly, Kili cooing and trying to roll to the edge of the couch, Fíli yelping and wiggling down from Thorin’s lap to help his brother.

“Careful, Kee,” Fíli gets there just as Kíli’s legs fly off the end of the cushion, the little brunet looking up at Fíli with a strange look. “Fee?” He mumbles, reaching a pudgy hand up and tangling it the shock of dark hair that falls over Fíli’s shoulder when he leans down.

“Yeah,” Fíli says quietly, loosening Kíli’s hand and holding onto both of them as they walk across the room towards their uncle. Kíli stares at him the entire time, face scrunching up in numerous different expressions as tiny hands tighten on Fíli’s fingers.

Thorin smiles at Kíli and lifts him onto his lap, Fíli hesitating at his uncle’s side and settling for placing a hand on his knee and leaning close. Shifting Kíli to one side Thorin pulls Fíli up onto his other leg, Kíli babbling and leaning towards his brother with hands outstretched. “Fee!”

“Hi Kíli,” Fíli reaches forward and takes his brother’s hand, lacing their fingers and squeezing lightly. Kíli giggles, eyes drifting to the dark, unbraided hair falling around Fíli’s face.

“Fee hair? Fee?”

“I uhh, I…”

“Fíli has hair like yours now, doesn’t he Kíli?” Thorin says, securing Kíli on his lap and reaching around to pull the clasps from Fíli’s messy hair. Kíli babbles in animated glee, bouncing on his uncle’s leg while watching him braid Fíli’s hair back.

“Fee Kee,” he babbles, leaning forward to get closer to his brother when Thorin’s finished. He sticks his tongue out when his uncle tries to braid his hair, squirming around until the large brunet shifts them both to sit across his legs.

With a smile Kíli snuggles into Fíli, bringing a hand up to twist in the dark locks as he coos quietly. “Lion Fee, my Fee.”

“My raven,” Fíli grins his reply, bringing a hand up and carding it through Kíli’s tousled hair. He looks to Thorin and smiles, leaning back against the strong chest and hugging his brother close.

* * *

“What are you thinking about?” Kíli’s voice and a tug at the side of his head bring Fíli out of his memories, turning to the side to look at his brother. Kíli’s tongue is poking out of his mouth as he tries to finish the braid in he’s weaving, pushing Fíli’s face back to the forward position with a huff.

“Hmm, just lost in memories I guess,” the blond smiles to himself, keeping still while swift fingers finish the braid at the side of his head, sliding a bead onto the end and letting it fall back into the mane of golden hair.

“Memories of what?” Kíli wants to know, turning his brother’s head with a warm hand and starting on a twin braid. Fíli leans to the side between the brunet’s legs, settling more comfortably before lifting the pipe to his lips.

“Of when I wanted to be like you,” he teases, Kíli scoffing while he tugs just a bit harder on Fíli’s hair, tightening the braid unnecessarily.

“Shut up,” he grunts and quickly finishes the braid, tying it off in a similar fashion as the first and resting an elbow on Fíli’s shoulder, pillowing his head in an open hand. “Although I am pretty dashing, I’d like to think.”

“Oh definitely, little raven.” Fíli’s voice is full of laughter as he inhales through the pipe, blowing out a smoke ring and glancing down when Kíli leans against his back. The way Kíli rests his chin on his head and both elbows on broad shoulders, the younger dwarrows’ dark hair mixes with Fíli’s own and once again sends his thoughts back to that day so long ago.

“Gimmie” Kíli is reaching for the pipe, putting it to his lips and taking a deep drag when Fíli hands it over. He blows it out and tilts his head to the side, Fíli grabbing his chin and bringing him down into a chaste kiss.

“What was that for, lion Fee?” Kíli whispers against chapped lips, Fíli shrugging and leaning back between Kíli’s knees, reclaiming his pipe and looking out at the night sky. His brother begins to hum softly, draping an arm down over Fíli’s shoulder while his other hand cards through silky hair, Kíli leaning down to press a kiss to gold spun hair.

* * *

 


End file.
